


Disturbance

by AsexualDerek (Cammerel)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter Hale, Creeper Peter, Loud Sex, M/M, Neighbors, Nudity, Public Nudity, References to Knotting, Rough Sex, Writer Stiles, knots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-01 23:37:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2791877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cammerel/pseuds/AsexualDerek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All he knows is that the man is single and has way too much sex - sex which normally takes place on the exact opposite side of the wall from Stiles’s desk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disturbance

**Author's Note:**

> Co-written.

It’s not often Stiles comes across what he calls the ‘perfect storm’ - where his muse, his motivation, his ability to concentrate, and the actual lines coming out the way he wants them to, culminate. More often than not, he’s left with either one of them, or none.

But this is one of those rare nights where it’s all working out the way he wants it to. He’s got half a pot of coffee left, an almost full bag of Doritos perched up by the keyboard, and a half-eaten sub just to his right. Literally **nothing** could spoil this night, that is… until the person in the room just next to his starts to get their freak on or whatever.

In the beginning, he used it as inspiration, or sometimes actually stopped what he was doing just to get off. But after half a year of it, the sound of the man’s ‘flavor of the week’ has gotten really old; and really frustrating, if he’s being honest with himself.

He doesn’t know the older man’s name, just that he’s stupidly attractive (also kind of creepy), wears really tight jeans, and **lots** of v-necks. None of which he has a problem with at all. The man seems like an okay guy, not that Stiles has really went out of his way to talk to him; he’s too much of a recluse to actually bother getting to know the people that live around him.

All he knows is that the man is single and has way too much sex - sex which normally takes place on the exact opposite side of the wall from Stiles’s desk. Stiles can only assume that that’s where the bed is, because there’s the knocking of something against the wall every once in a while. He can literally hear _everything_ taking place on the other side, and has… had an occasion to think about what it’d actually be like being on the other side while everything’s happening - instead of being stuck at his desk, growing more and more annoyed by the minute.

Finally, after hearing this going on for over two **hours** , Stiles has finally had it. He’s never gotten pissed off enough before to actually do something about it, but this is **his** night. If it weren’t for the sounds on the other side, he’d be shoulders deep in this chapter, and actually making progress. The sooner he gets rid of it, the sooner he can get back to work.

Stiles stands up from the desk, fingertips covered in the seasoning dust from the Doritos, wearing his dancing hotdog pajamas and not even bothering to put on some shoes as he walks out of his room. He stomps over to the other man’s door, face flushed and fists balled as he knocks a couple of times - not so gently.

Peter disengages from intercourse the moment he hears the agitated pounding at his door and instead of opting to put clothes on, he saunters throughout his apartment nude to answer the door. He already knows that it’s his neighbor, was able to hear the boy stomp out of his apartment. He can smell the foul mood pouring off of his neighbor in waves before he even reaches out for his door, schooling a small, smug smile into place as he swings the door open.

“May I help you?” Peter questions calmly, and curls his hand against the door frame as he looks the boy over.

Stiles gasps, eyes widening and his gaze drops down immediately. In hindsight, he’s not sure why he expected the other man to be dressed when he answered the door, but he did. Even though he’s completely caught off-guard, Stiles still manages to collect himself after a moment and look back up at the guy, frowning and narrowing his eyes.

“Do you have a _problem_ or something?” he starts, voice a little high, “Like, I get that sex is good and all that, but **seriously** , I’m trying to get something done, and you’re… like could you be a little louder or whatever? I’m sure the people in the apartments across the road haven’t had the fucking pleasure of hearing what’s going on in your bedroom.”

Peter tries not to let his amusement show too much as he watches the younger man, keeping his expression neutral aside from the small smirk playing on his lips, “I can try,” he responds seriously.

Stiles feels his blood boil a little more, “That was sarcasm, smart ass,” he says in a clipped tone, “Not only are most of the people around here trying to sleep, but **I’m** trying to work. Some of us have lives, and your… whatever you wanna call that, is seriously distracting. And, okay, I’m gonna go ahead and say it, it’s _**gross**_.” He lifts his hands up, “It’s fucking gross, and it’s been going on for months, and someone has to actually say something about it… so… so stop.”

“Of course,” Peter nods as courteously as possible, though he has no intention of stopping. He’ll tell the boy what he wants to hear in order to get him to go back into his apartment, “No more sex,” he lies convincingly.

“I’m not saying 'no more sex',” Stiles responds, even though he kind of is, “I just don’t wanna hear it **every single night** while I’m trying to write.”

“I understand,” Peter says simply and takes a step back from the doorway, cock still just as hard and arching up towards his stomach, “Have a good evening, _Stiles_ ,” he smiles a little wider and closes the door.

Stiles tilts his head in confusion, his cheeks flushing even more now when the other man says his name. **How** does he even know something like that? It’s not like they’ve ever spoken to one another. Stiles has honestly seen more of him than he’s seen of Stiles. And maybe at a few times he thought he knew the guy’s name, that is until the next person was in his bed, shouting a different name. Stiles could probably list a few off the top of his head, but he’s still trying to figure out how the guy even knows his name.

He shuffles back to his room, heart racing and the dust of the doritos on his fingers is now sticky from the sweat building on his palms. So he quickly washes his hands and goes back to his desk, taking a sip of his coffee and sitting down once more.

It’s almost the moment his ass touches the seat of his chair that he hears the sounds start back up… even louder than before.

“Motherfucker,” Stiles mutters and glares at the wall as the person on the other side makes this loud, obscene shriek that almost sounds like pain, if not for being quickly followed by a groan of relief.

* * *

Not a week after the encounter with his neighbor, does the constant sound of the fucking on the other side of the wall finally get to him again. It seems as though his getting onto the man about it has only made matters worse. Now, it’s almost all of the time. He’s woken up to hearing sex, showered to the sound of sex, and tried to watch new episodes of _Supernatural_ … to the sound of sex.

Stiles is pretty sure that it’s a matter of time before he starts grinding his teeth in his sleep. And while ignoring it and hoping it’ll go away is probably the wisest option, he goes with the alternative. He stands up so fast his chair falls backwards, leaving the apartment in his pajamas once more and knocking on the door sharply, tapping his foot while he waits.

Peter snorts when he hears the noise and pauses the porn on his television, he’d honestly anticipated Stiles snapping a lot sooner. He pads over to his door and wrenches it open, lifting his brows at the younger man to gauge him.

“I can’t get my fucking work done with you doing that,” Stiles says, voice dark and huffy as he glares at the man, “Are you fucking **kidding** me? You asshole. You know just as well as I do that the second I went back to my apartment last week, you fucking went out of your way to make it _louder_ than before. I’m not a goddamn idiot,” he doesn’t even realize he starts doing it, but the next thing he knows, he’s pacing in front of the other man’s door.

“I’m trying to **work** and it isn’t easy when you’re over here fucking pounding someone into your bed on the direct other side of my fucking desk,” he’s pretty sure this time it wasn’t in the bed, but that’s besides the point, “Why can’t you, for once, do it at **their** house instead? Some people around here are trying to get shit done.”

Peter’s fingers twitch a split second before he reaches out, grabbing a handful of Stiles’s shirt to pull him into his apartment, shoving him roughly up against his door after he shuts it, “ _ **I’m not fucking anyone**_ ,” he growls in response, face close to the boy’s as his eyes flicker red.

“Oh **Jesus** ,” Stiles mutters, wincing as he’s pushed against the door and he stares at the other man, his insides twisting when he sees the eyes change. It’s practically like his death sentence, too, instant boner springing forth as his mouth drops open, “Oh…”

Peter’s eyes drop down when he smells the surge of arousal waft off of Stiles, gaze slowly drifting back up to meet the boy’s, “I _could_ be, though,” he says suggestively, shamelessly pressing closer and dropping his nose to the human’s neck to breathe him in.

“Oh, what-fuck,” Stiles squirms slightly as his head tilts away, “And now you’re scenting me,” he mumbles to himself, “Go figure, just my luck I move in next to a fucking _werewolf_.”

“Is my species a problem?” Peter asks almost darkly and pulls back to look him in the eyes, “Do you find werewolves 'gross' as well?” he repeats the word Stiles had used before.

Stiles frowns a little and shakes his head, “Uh-no, nope - kno-not a, uh-” his voice squeaks and his eyes meet the other man’s, “I’m not a speciesist,” he smiles slightly, putting his hands up, “Just… now the whole ‘appetite’ makes sense.”

“My sexual appetite has nothing to do with my being a werewolf,” Peter responds lowly and steps close enough to feel the younger man’s bulge, caging him in with his arms, “I just enjoy sex, I take pride in making people feel good,” he explains, a thoughtful expression flickering across his features, “I could make you feel good, I know it’s been a while.”

“Uh-a-a while?” Stiles blinks, shaking his head, “A while since what?”

“Since someone’s put their hands on you,” Peter says matter-of-factly, moving one hand from the door behind Stiles to touch his neck, fingers gently curling against the boy’s throat as he swipes his thumb over the Adam’s apple, “That’s the real issue here, I can smell it on you. You need… _release_.”

“What? Pft,” Stiles responds, probably spitting a little in the other man’s face as he shakes his head, “No way, are-are you kidding? I get plenty of 'release', uh… dude. I, it’s… I mean it’s not as often as **you** , obviously. But, i-it’s-it’s not a problem,” he says as he tries to sound less intimidated and aroused than he actually is, “I still-I still uh-‘get action’.”

“By your own hand, sure,” Peter says knowingly and drops his other hand down, cupping his hand over Stiles’s clothed erection as he keeps him pinned to the door with a hand to his throat, “I’d smell it on you if you were engaging with other people, Stiles… and you’re not. Let me help you.”

Stiles flails a little, “Uh, actually-uh, this is like-the worst… I mean, I was writing-I’m trying to write,” he doesn’t even know why he’s trying to back out of it, considering he’s wanted this from day one pretty much, “Seriously, I-I may not _smell_ like I’m involved, but I **am** ,” he insists, “ _Often_. Really, I don’t need any favors from the alpha next door. It’s cool.”

“It wouldn’t be a favor,” Peter argues weakly and drags his fingers against the shape of Stiles’s cock, “I’d take pleasure in taking you apart, figuratively.”

Stiles is about to argue again, but instead his mouth just hangs open, hips arching forward subtly as he stares at the other man, “Oh… uh,” he manages out, chest tight as he feels himself giving in a little, “O-o-okay?”

“Okay,” Peter repeats the word, satisfied, dropping his hand down from the boy’s neck to brush over his chest.

The pajamas clinging to Stiles’s hips are silly, but he loves the accessibility of the fabric, able to easily pull it down in one quick motion before turning Stiles around and making him face the door. Wetting his lips, Peter glances down at the boy’s ass, admiring the dust of moles across the pale skin as he drops to his knees, nuzzling his nose in between the soft cheeks and manhandling Stiles’s hips out towards his face as he breathes in deep.

Stiles feels his mouth and throat dry as the blush spreads down his neck and shoulders, “W-wait,” he says, the sound coming out more like a sob than anything else. He’s always had a thing for werewolves, so even asking the other man to wait is hard enough to do, “I-I don’t-I don’t know **your** name,” he breathes out, “And-I mean, your **real** name, not just some shitty one-night… one-week thing. But I-I can’t… I can’t do this if I don’t actually know who you are. It’s just fucking weird… if I don’t know.”

Peter sighs, hot breath gusting out against Stiles’s skin as he looks up, “Peter,” he supplies, tone impatient, “My name’s Peter,” he tells the boy before spreading the soft cheeks and running his tongue out against the pretty, pink hole.

“P-oh,” Stiles moans suddenly, eyes widening as he stares back the best he can, his hand moving reflexively to fist the other man’s hair. He’s not sure if he can actually trust that to be a real name, but… well, it’s real enough. Stiles hasn’t heard someone in here moan out that name yet, so it works; it’s better than nothing.

Peter growls when he feels the fingers in his hair, the sound vibrating against Stiles’s hole as he darts his tongue into the tight rim. He’s not used to people touching him like this, it’s usually a rule that they don’t, amongst other things, like kissing or too much eye contact. Just thinking about other people touching him, or threading their fingers through his hair makes his wolf bristle. And as much as he doesn’t particularly mind Stiles’s slender fingers, he’s not about to abandon his principles, his rules.

Removing one hand from Stiles’s backside, Peter reaches up and removes the boy’s hand from his hair, twisting the younger man’s arm behind his back as he fucks his tongue into him.

Stiles frowns when his hand is pulled up, but he doesn’t complain. It’s probably stupid, but it kind of arouses him even more - and even though he’s not sure why Peter stops him, he forces himself not to ask. The guy sleeps with like… _everyone_ , so chances are he has some kind of weird thing about touching. Stiles would probably be concerned with STDs and various other things like that if he didn’t already know that Peter’s a werewolf, and-well, that has some upsides.

The alpha loses himself for a little bit, finding himself enjoying himself more than usual as he works to loosen the boy up with soft flicks of his tongue, the musk of Stiles’s sex heavy on his tongue. This alone has him hard, cock aching and straining against the denim of his jeans as he works a finger in next to his tongue, groaning at how the younger man hugs his finger, the warmth emanating from him. Peter pulls Stiles’s ass out from the door a little further, making him arch his back and shoving another finger in alongside the first.

“Oh my God,” Stiles mutters to himself, his free hand moving under his shirt to brush over his right nipple, “I seriously can’t believe this is actually happening right now. This is like-this is totally not a thing I do… like… **ever**. Like, this is a first. And I don’t even really _know_ you. You could totally be a serial killer werewolf or something.” Even as he’s saying it, he feels his dick get harder, almost painfully so, his walls clenching around Peter’s fingers involuntarily.

“It excites you,” Peter murmurs hotly when he feels Stiles’s body react, hooking his fingers inside of the boy and pressing down insistently on his prostate, “ **Not** knowing. And you’re right, I very well could be,” he tells Stiles.

“Peter,” Stiles breathes out, legs shaking a little as his back arches and he tries to rut down against the older man’s fingers, “O-okay, yeah, it does…” he admits, “A lot of it does, but that doesn’t mean it _should_.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being aroused by a sense of danger,” Peter supplies and stands up behind Stiles slowly, working a third finger into the younger man as he leans forward, lips barely touching his ear, “ _It’s normal_. _Human_ , _even_.”

Stiles turns back a little more to meet the other man’s eyes, “You are so fucking creepy, it’s not even funny,” he says before he stops himself, “And what the Hell is wrong with me for finding that seriously attractive?” he asks rhetorically and starts to lean in to kiss the alpha.

Peter reaches up with his free hand and grasps Stiles’s jaw, stopping him and leveling him with a grave look, “ _ **Don’t**_ ,” he says lowly, eyes flickering to the boy’s mouth. Kissing is too intimate, and while he’s wanted to get Stiles in this position for some time now, he’s not sure if he wants anything more out of it than this, if it’d even be worth it.

Letting go of the younger man, the alpha removes his fingers from the heat, taking a step back and removing his shirt as he gestures to the other room with a subtle jerk of his chin.

Stiles slowly pulls back from the door and turns to look at Peter as he steps out of the pajama bottoms completely, taking off his own shirt as well, “Okay, okay, I get it. No touching you, and no kissing,” he says as he smirks, “But all this distant crap is only making me like you more,” he admits and wets his lips, winking at Peter as he starts to move towards the other room.

Peter can’t help but snort at Stiles, watching the boy with rapt attention before following behind him. It’s ridiculous, especially when almost everyone else hates his methods and rules, they always whine and complain, try to goad him into kissing or letting them touch, but not Stiles - he _likes_ it. And that in itself confuses Peter, but he tries not to think too much into it as he presses up behind Stiles once they’re in his bedroom, mouthing at the side of the younger man’s neck as his fingers curl firmly against Stiles’s soft hips.

It’s instinct to try and reach out to touch Peter once his mouth is on Stiles’s neck, but Stiles fights the urge, keeping his hands to himself instead as he bares his neck to the alpha. He’s normally a really touchy person, but as long as he’s getting some in turn, he thinks he can resist doing it, “A-anything else I should know, before I cross another line?” he asks breathlessly, arching back against Peter and rocking his hips a little.

“You can’t have my knot,” Peter tells Stiles huskily and nips at the bared skin, almost salivating at how enticing the boy is. It always goes the same way with everyone he brings home; he tells them they can’t have his knot, they act like they don’t want it anyway and when he teases them with it, they always beg for it.

Stiles frowns a little, even pouts, but nods, “I guess that makes sense,” he says as he moans weakly, “It’s a pretty personal thing… I-I mean, fr-from what I’ve heard. Bummer, though.”

Peter tilts his head slightly and stares at Stiles from behind, just when he thinks the boy can’t confuse him any more he goes and does it regardless.

The fact that Stiles doesn’t even hide his disappointment throws him off; the boy is starting to become more and more of an enigma to the alpha, and he doesn’t like that he can’t figure him out. Instead of responding, Peter bends Stiles over the end of the bed and runs his palm down the knobs of his spine.

“Don’t move,” the alpha tells Stiles and ambles over to his side stand, pulling out his lube from the drawer before moving back up behind the younger man, “You seem to know a little about my kind. I’m guessing you know that it’s not possible for us to carry sexually transmitted diseases,” he pops the cap and pours the lube straight onto Stiles, licking his lips as he watches the slick glide down over the tight hole, “Protection isn’t necessary, but I’ll use it if you’d like.”

Stiles trembles a little and shakes his head, “What? No, no, you don’t have to,” he says confidently, keeping as still as possible, even though his fingers move numbly over the bed, “Uh, my best friend is a werewolf, that’s-that’s why I know so much. And you’re seriously not about to fuck me on this bed. Because I have no clue when the last time it was that **any** of this was washed.”

“Do I look like a dirty, unsanitary person to you, Stiles?” Peter asks the boy and looks around the room, everything’s so clean it practically shines, you couldn’t find a speck of dust in his apartment if you tried. Before the boy can answer him though, the alpha presses his thumb into the younger man’s hole.

“Okay, maybe not, but I still don’t really know you,” Stiles says as he whines and arches back once more, “I’ve heard the things that happen in this bed.”

“I can assure you that everything is clean, but if you insist…” Peter trails off and removes his thumb, hooking an arm around the boy’s middle before lifting him up to carry him into the other room, promptly shoving him down over the back of his couch, “I have no problem fucking you elsewhere.”

Stiles lets out a very embarrassingly high shriek when Peter picks him up suddenly and moves him, glancing back once the alpha sets him down again, “Okay, that shouldn’t have been nearly as hot as it was,” he complains, “But… I mean, no offense, buddy, just the idea of being another one of your flavors of the week… kinda not all that appealing, to be honest. Last thing I want is to add to the insane smell of your sheets.”

Peter rolls his eyes as he listens to Stiles, hands working at his own zipper. If the boy had half the mind to check the sheets, to smell them, he’d know they’re clean, but if he’s insistent on believing that he’s a slob, then he’s not going to try and make him think otherwise.

“Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?” the alpha asks curiously, gripping the base of his cock and shoving himself into the suffocating heat before Stiles can respond.

“Y-ah!” Stiles gasps and feels his body tense, his hands curling against the fabric of the couch, “Ooooh, yeah,” he says as he grins, “Yeah, I get told that a lot, actually.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Peter grunts under his breath and pulls a face, wincing slightly as he gets accustomed to just how tight Stiles is. His knuckles nearly turn white with how hard he grips the boy’s hips, trying bodily to not lose control. It’s difficult, frame trembling with restraint and he growls low in his chest as he starts to move, pulling out and gliding back in to the beginning of his knot.

“Fuck, that’s your knot,” Stiles observes as he wets his lips, “You know, I always wondered what it was like to have sex with a werewolf,” he says then, able to feel Peter shaking against him, “I bet that bad boy feels fucking _**amazing** _ on the inside… I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t considered it a few times, too.”

“Stiles,” the alpha growls warningly and grinds his knot against the younger man’s hole for a moment, teasing both the boy and himself without actually shoving in. It’s already difficult enough to keep himself together, the last thing he needs at the moment is Stiles purposefully goading him.

Stiles groans in response, feeling his toes curls, “No,” he breathes out, “No, I know you won’t, I get it. I’m just saying, like… you know, that I’ve th-thought about it.”

“Thought about it,” Peter repeats and starts fucking Stiles in earnest, watching the younger man’s lithe body shift every time he slams in, “Thought about what it’d be like to be knotted, to be mated to a werewolf, to give yourself to someone so wholly and completely… it’s not something to be taken lightly,” he pants out, reaching down and grabbing Stiles’s inner thigh before lifting his leg and settling the boy’s knee on the back of the couch, “You should fantasize about other things.”

“Oh, no, I’ve considered like… _all_ of it,” Stiles says and lets out a weak whimper as Peter thrusts into him, the knot pressing firmly against his backside, “I know it’s not the same. It’s a pretty serious deal. Still considered it… or-well, it’s not like my thoughts have really changed much on it.”

“Shh,” Peter hushes the boy and watches his cock disappear into the snug hole repeatedly, slowing his thrusts and rubbing his fingers against the stretched rim, feeling Stiles around his girth as he teases his knot in a little. He won’t give it to him, not completely, but he doesn’t see the harm in making the boy want it.

Stiles nearly chokes on his tongue, which might seem impossible to some, but it’s completely possible for him. He glances back at Peter, “Uh, what’re you doin’?” he asks, smiling sheepishly.

“Fucking you?” Peter snorts and smooths his hands over Stiles’s ass, spreading the cheeks wide as he works himself into the boy with quick, short thrusts. He’s never really done this with anyone else before, teased someone with his knot or entertained the thought of just… taking someone. Stiles seems to want it bad enough, he could probably just take the boy, claim him as his own and mount him until he can’t walk. He won’t, but the fact that he could makes his knot swell a little more.

“Just making sure you’re not breaking your own rules,” Stiles responds as he winks at Peter, “Not that I totally would mind, but… you know,” he arches back against the knot once more, the feeling of it spreading him a little wider causing chill bumps to rise up all over his skin.

“ _ **Stiles**_ ,” Peter growls, then sighs when the boy arches back against him, “Shut up,” he warns, because the more the younger man talks, the more he has second thoughts about giving Stiles an idea of what his knot would feel like.

“Hah, you say that like you think that’s possible,” Stiles mumbles and reaches back to touch Peter, stilling once he’s realized what he’s done and he pulls his hand back, “Oh, sorry-just… uh... ” he smiles sheepishly, “Really wouldn’t mind it being, you know, _rougher_.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Peter’s claws extend and he can feel the tips of them prick against Stiles’s milky skin, hips snapping more roughly and he groans when he feels his knot slide in a little further.

Stiles starts to chuckle, but is silenced when Peter slams into him, his upper half dropping a little as his hand slips, “Oh my God,” he manages out breathily, the touch of the alpha’s sharp claws causing his dick to jump, “Oh, okay, so that whole claw thing is gonna make me come, like… seriously.”

“ _ **Good**_ ,” Peter rumbles deep in his chest and reaches around the boy with one clawed hand, very carefully taking Stiles’s cock into his hand as he grips harder with his other. Every time his knot slips in a little more, it causes him to lose a fraction of his humanity, fangs dropping involuntarily as he starts fucking the boy mercilessly.

“Peter,” Stiles pants out, a few more obscene sounds spilling from his lips as he feels the legs of the couch slide an inch or two. The whole irony of this situation isn’t lost on him, but at least this time he doesn’t have to listen to himself on the other side of the wall and get all sexually frustrated over it. Peter wasn’t wrong when he pointed out that it’d been a while, that’s partly the reason for Stiles even **living** in this complex to begin with.

“Come,” the alpha growls out and teases his thumb against the plush cap, careful not to nick the boy with his claws, “It’ll loosen you up,” he muses, still working his knot into the younger man.

Stiles narrows his brows at the last part of the comment, but then all he can think about is Peter fucking him with his knot and it’s literally that easy to make him come. It probably also has something to do with the alpha’s low, growly voice, too, but he can’t stop thinking about that knot spreading him open.

Peter stifles a groan by biting on Stiles’s shoulder, rough but not hard enough to break skin. The spasms are enough to take his breath away, but he doesn’t stop moving his hips, gasping sharply when Stiles’s body goes lax enough for his entire knot to shove in.

Stiles grunts a little in pain, his mouth hanging open and he’s pretty sure he’s drooling, “P-” he says, otherwise speechless at the tight pressure of the alpha’s knot inside of him. Stiles doesn’t really know anything **about** Peter, but he was pretty positive that when the alpha listed what else he couldn’t do… that it was something he’d follow through with.

“Just relax,” the alpha rubs a gentle hand up the boy’s side, keeping the knot buried inside of Stiles for a moment before he begins to easily tug it back out, careful not to hurt him.

“Y-yeah, okay,” Stiles responds numbly, the touch of the alpha’s hand actually helping that entire process along. Technically speaking, this isn’t the first knot he’s experienced - toys aren’t the same thing, but he’s familiar with the feeling of being spread open like this, “Still a little confused, but yeah, okay.”

“Confused?” Peter gauges and shoves his knot back into Stiles, careful at first as he starts fucking the younger man with it. He’s cautious, paying attention to his own body so that he doesn’t accidentally swell up more and knot him.

Stiles twists back enough to look at Peter, his eyes dropping down the alpha’s body, “Uh, yeah,” he says and smirks, “I dunno, I wasn’t really anticipating **any** of your knot when you told me, you know, your terms,” he wets his lips, “But I can take this, this is _good_.”

“I meant what I said, you can’t have it, not completely,” Peter responds and winds an arm around Stiles to hold him still, hips undulating his knot in and out of the younger man more roughly. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to actually speak while he’s doing this, mouth dropping open and his eyes flash as his knot swells a little more.

“Yeah, I get that,” Stiles says between thrusts, when he can actually collect himself long enough to say something, “But this is more than I was expecting. Still wouldn’t mind the real deal, but- _fuck_ , it’s more than I was ex-exp-expecting.”

Peter grunts when he feels his own orgasm about to wash over him, withdrawing from the boy’s heat before his knot locks him into place, “Spread yourself,” he growls, forcing Stiles to spread his cheeks apart as he takes his own cock into his hand, aiming the milky strands of come all over and into the gaping hole as he watches.

Stiles frowns in confusion as he lays against the couch, but then he slowly grins as he feels the wet slick of come and he glances back, “Okay then,” he says slowly, his heart racing because he’s completely surprised the guy would even **do** something like that, and the fact that he managed to string two words together is just… a miracle, right now, “And here I thought they only ever did that in porn.”

“Surprise,” Peter pants out and drops his hand from his cock to reach out, eyes still rapt on how loose Stiles is right now, fingers smearing around in his come before pushing more of it into the boy with his thick digits.

Stiles straightens up a little when he feels Peter’s fingers press into him, “Oh, God,” he says as he meets the alpha’s eyes, his own hand moving as well, joining Peter’s.

Peter’s eyes darken when he realizes what exactly Stiles is doing and his gaze shifts up to look at the younger man, slowly removing his come coated fingers before lifting them to the human’s mouth, lifting an expectant brow.

Stiles doesn’t even wait, mouth opening and lips wrapping around the alpha’s fingers, his gaze flicking up once more to stare at Peter before he closes his eyes. He moans loudly as his tongue flicks over the other man’s skin.

The alpha lets a heavy breath out through his nose as he watches Stiles, wetting his own lips as he feels the slick tongue move against his fingers. Out of everyone he’s invited to his bed, he’s never wanted someone so completely, he’s never wanted to knot someone, or… kiss someone, even just to see what they taste like, but he finds himself wanting to claim Stiles’s mouth. It’s unnerving, but he’s hardly ever denied himself something he truly wants, so he pulls his fingers back and curls against Stiles’s back before pressing his lips to the boy’s.

Stiles gasps, startled for a moment, but he kisses Peter back. He was under the impression that he took the knotting comment wrong, but Peter had previously (also) made it a point about kissing, as well. And yet here he was, kissing Stiles. The kiss is jarring, but only for a second and then he’s turning, tilting his head to deepen it, parting his lips to try and taste Peter.

The alpha opens his mouth to Stiles without hesitation and reaches out for his hips, slotting his own waist between the younger man’s legs as he licks into the human’s mouth, claiming it and groaning at the taste. Kissing is something he’s put into the intimate category for the longest time now, but this… this just makes him realize how much he’s missed it, the simple pleasure of doing something in tandem with someone else.

Stiles reaches out to touch Peter once more, less hesitant to do it now that the werewolf’s already broken two of his three rules. His palm brushes Peter’s temple, fingers gently touching the other man’s hair.

Peter stiffens slightly and he has to think about what it is he’s doing, because it’s a little too easy to let go of himself when he’s with Stiles. He doesn’t push the boy’s hands away, but he does break the kiss, lips shiny as he stares at the younger man, “This was fun,” he says breathily.

“Uh, yeah,” Stiles agrees as he mindlessly licks his lips, leaning in again to kiss Peter shortly, because he knows that lingering would just be pushing his luck, “ **Fun** ,” he nods and smiles slightly, “That’s the first word that comes to my mind.”

Peter reaches down to pull his jeans up, buttoning them as he glances Stiles over, but pointedly ignoring the sarcasm, “I’ll try to keep the noise down from here on out,” he supplies and grabs Stiles’s shirt, tossing it to him.

Stiles catches the shirt and stares at the alpha, “Yeah, okay,” he confirms and pulls it on, “Thanks… for that,” he clears his throat and moves to grab his pajama bottoms.

“Not a problem,” Peter responds easily and gestures to his kitchen, “Trust you can let yourself out,” he says, looking at the boy from over his shoulder as he moves into the other room, “Good luck with your work.”

Stiles watches after Peter, blinking and then deciding that he really doesn’t know what to do with just about **every** part of this entire encounter, so he settles on letting himself out before it gets any more awkward than it already is. He’s not even sure if Peter will **actually** keep it down (part of him kind of hopes not, so he has an excuse to come over and bitch at Peter again), but it probably doesn’t matter much now that he’s gotten laid by the guy.


End file.
